


heiress of scraped knees

by Kendarrr



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendarrr/pseuds/Kendarrr
Summary: It's winter break and the glee kids made plans to see each other in a reunion of sorts - even though it's only been four months since they all saw each other last. Four months might seem a short time, but it appears it was enough for Quinn to move on from her relationship with Rachel, after they dated during senior year. After graduation, they made the conscious decision to break up - in fear of holding each other back.Rachel, faced with Quinn's new girlfriend and Quinn herself, must grapple with the fact that she still loves Quinn. And Quinn, faced with Rachel, must decide where her heart truly lies - distance and attempts at maturity be damned.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 5
Kudos: 114





	heiress of scraped knees

_And if you do find someone better  
I’ll still see you in everything  
for always, tomorrow, and all the time_

“Pristine” by Snail Mail

_You are the woman I can’t mention  
to a woman I want to love.  
You are the heiress of scraped knees:_

“Iva’s Pantoum” by Marilyn Hacker

\--

The day appeared late for dusk. The sun had long disappeared behind an opaque wall of clouds. Streetlamps lit the familiar grid-like streets of Quinn’s hometown, as she drove the rental car through the main thoroughfares. The air in the car was warm and it served to unfreeze the tips of her fingers. Outside, the wind gusted unraked leaves, swirled them in small tornadoes. The smell of the impending snowfall perfumed the air.

Quinn made a turn and parked her car beside another rented vehicle. The parking lot was full – as full as it could be for Lima, anyway – and it was almost as if nothing had changed. Breadstix appeared the same from the outside. The same neon lights that framed the restaurant’s signage lit the path towards the entryway.

Back from New Haven for a couple of days now, it took her no time at all to accustom herself to Lima. She was barely gone – not even for half a year – so to expect her to be rid of Ohio in her veins was too much to expect. Still, something about the familiarity of the city was a comfort to her. The parks she frequented, her favourite library branch, and the streets that she knew like the back of her hand was a startling comfort after the months she spent away.

Quinn stepped out of the car, as did the woman who rode on the passenger’s seat with her. With their hands clasped together, Quinn released a shuddering breath.

“You okay?” The woman asked, her voice soft and gentle amidst the sharp screech of the winter wind.

“Yeah, it’s just cold,” Quinn smiled and buried her nose against her scarf. The woman giggled and pulled Quinn’s beanie lower to cover her ears. Together, they walked into the warmth of the restaurant.

Inside, Breadstix still looked the same. The servers with their off-white shirts and olive-green aprons walked about carrying trays heavy with food. The shrill cries of toddlers and the sounds of conversation among teenagers – some wearing the familiar letterman jacket and cheerleading uniform of William McKinley High School – made it seem as if Quinn stepped back in time. She shook her head to rid herself of the horrifying thought.

“For two?” asked a derisive server, without looking at Quinn and her companion while she plucked two menus from the pile by the counter. “This way.”

“Um, no – we’re with a party. We have a reservation.”

The server stopped and sighed. “Alright. Follow me.”

She led Quinn and her guest, their hands still locked, through a maze-like path. They passed by couples on their dates, cheerleaders with their football player boyfriends, and maybe one or two teenagers in the throes of a new date or a new relationship. Quinn winced, and beside her, her companion giggled and nudged her with her shoulder.

“Getting flashbacks, babe?” She teased. “I bet you were one of those cheerleaders, once upon a time, sharing a milkshake with her quarterback boyfriend.”

“Don’t remind me,” Quinn scoffed.

The server stopped in her tracks and Quinn nearly collided with her back. In a more isolated section of Breadstix was a cordoned-off area with fewer tables and the familiar faces of her high school friends.

“Quinn!” Brittany shrieked as she bounded her way towards the blonde. The taller girl pulled Quinn into a hug, face buried against Quinn’s neck as they swayed side to side. “I missed you!”

She pulled back to look at Brittany who still wore the familiar polyester uniform of the Cheerios. Her hair still in the same high ponytail. “Britt! I missed you too, of course – how have you been?”

Brittany grinned and did a twirl, the skirt fanning out around her. “Still cheering, still being the best singer _and_ dancer in glee club. The usual. Come on! Most of us are here already – oh, hello.” She stopped yanking Quinn towards the tables when she saw that Quinn was holding the woman’s hand. “You must be Quinn’s plus one.”

“That I am,” she answered.

Brittany beamed, though Quinn could see how her bright blue eyes darted towards Quinn. “Great! Come on, come on. Not everyone is here yet,” she glanced at Quinn again. “but come, introduce yourself!”

She tugged Quinn towards the long table that was heavily occupied on one end rather than the other. Sure enough, Brittany was right in saying not everyone was there yet, for as Quinn’s eyes scanned every individual face, she knew in her gut, before she finished acknowledging every person present, that _she_ was not here yet.

“Hi, I’m Amy,” the woman beside Quinn said, a pleasant smile on her lips. “I’m Quinn’s girlfriend.”

+

Rachel huffed an anxious breath out of her lungs while she checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror of Santana’s car, while Kurt did the same from the backseat. Santana rolled her eyes and combed her hair, re-applied a coating of ruby red lipstick on her mouth.

“Sorry to break it to you both, but no amount of agonizing over your hair would fix you,” Santana said with a scoff.

“And no amount of lipstick will make Brittany want to go back to you,” Kurt snapped.

“Guys, please,” Rachel said, sighing. “This is supposed to be _fun_ and nostalgic and maybe a little bit of an opportunity for gloating, but we can’t really gloat if we’re not inside the restaurant, can we?”

A few hours ago, they just landed on a flight from New York. In Santana’s rented car, they sped to Lima from Columbus, stopped by each of their houses so they could see their parents and wash off the sweat and stink of travel from their bodies. Santana picked them up an hour later, and here they were, in the parking lot of Breadstix, bickering with one another like they always did.

Rachel, out of the three of them, was the most nervous – or so it felt like it. In the glee club group chat that she surprisingly had not been kicked out of, she remembered when it was Finn who was the first to break the radio silence after four months of no conversation.

**Finn Hudson:** Hey, everyone! I know it’s been a while, but those of us stuck in Ohio were just thinking and… is anyone going home for winter break or whatever you college kids do? We should hang out!

**Tina Cohen-Chang:** We’re thinking of making a party reservation.

**Santana Lopez:** At Breadstix, I hope? It better be.

It was an eventful week of banter that Rachel admitted she missed. Back when things were simple, when it was predictable that everyone went to Breadstix to hang out rather than in twenty different clubs or bars that was cool one week, and then out of fashion the next. She barely said anything in the chat – she let Santana and Kurt deal with the planning, even when it came to purchasing plane tickets to fly back home. She let them deal with it all. Until Quinn texted a single message.

**Quinn Fabray:** Can I bring a plus one?

Rachel stared at the green bubble that immediately disappeared above the barrage of follow-up questions. She muted her phone and did not look at it – still had not looked at the text thread so she was now five hundred messages behind and she had no stomach to backread like there was no tomorrow, out of fear of what she might learn.

The three of them emerged from the vehicle and with their peacoats billowing behind them, they approached the restaurant’s entrance. Before they stepped in, however, Santana turned and faced Rachel. She brushed invisible lint from the lapel of her coat. Shot Rachel a stern glance and gave a firm squeeze to her upper arms.

“You’re good?”

Gruff she may seem, but Rachel knew better. She offered a shaky smile – the best she could manage, in these trying times – and nodded.

+

A cacophony of laughter surrounded Quinn, and it was both strange and comforting to be wrapped in it. Beside her, Amy chatted with everyone present. The introduction shocked everyone until they all remembered that Quinn offhandedly mentioned Amy’s existence without divulging torrents of information. She thought it best that the members of the glee club just meet her for themselves.

It shocked even Quinn herself that Amy remembered everything – and she meant _everything_ – Quinn told her about her friends. Amy knew everyone’s first name and one thing, big or small, about them. She asked about how Mike was enjoying his time at the dance academy and talked to Mercedes about classes she took in UCLA, amongst other things.

“Wait, hold on,” Finn said as he lowered his drinking glass on the table. “Are you saying you know who we are? _All_ of us?”  
  


“Sure I do,” Amy said. “You’re Finn, Quinn’s first boyfriend. The lead singer of glee club, and also the star quarterback.”

Finn opened his mouth to speak, but he glanced at Quinn – _again_ with the furtive looks – and chose to say nothing. “Um, yeah. That sounds about right.”

Amy went around the table, continuing along the same vein as if she was an oracle who knew more about the individual she was talking to, more than they know themselves. She was pleasant and nice towards Sam, Tina, and Blaine. When it came to Puck, she was colder than an arctic gale.

“You got Quinn pregnant,” Amy pointed out, her brow stern.

“My one crowning achievement,” Puck said humbly.

Quinn palmed her forehead. Everyone broke off into smaller groups, but she and Amy remained with Finn and Brittany who seemed closer now that Quinn had the opportunity to focus on one person at a time rather than the group as a whole. Finn leaned back on his chair, his arm resting against the back of Brittany’s seat. It was difficult to ascertain, but Quinn was _sure_ that Brittany’s hand rested on his knee.

“Is this everyone that’s going to come?” Quinn asked.

“No – not yet. Kurt said they were running a little bit late but that was a while back,” Finn’s throat flexed and he looked at Quinn, his mouth moving as if mulling over what to say next. He checked his phone and then looked up as he rose to his feet. “They’re here.”

“What? Who?” Amy asked and followed Finn with her eyes.

+

Rachel followed Santana and Kurt through the labyrinthian pathing of the packed restaurant until they were led to the reserved area, full of familiar faces that greeted the three of them with such warm, welcoming arms. Tina hugged her, Sam kissed her cheek. Artie gave her waist a squeeze. Rachel buried her face in Mike’s shirt while the taller man spun her around.

“You look great,” he grinned. “But you should brace yourself, okay?”

Her smile vanished from her face and she stiffened her jaw, nodding. She could see, from the corner of her eye the familiar blonde head. Without looking, without meeting her eyes, Rachel’s insides churned with fear and anxiety. Mike looked at her with a worried knot in his brow.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she explained with a watery smile.

Mike threw an arm around Rachel’s shoulder and gave her another squeeze. “I know. But hey, say hello to everyone first.”

He ushered her to the one end of the table – where Quinn was not. Kurt and Santana parted from Rachel, so they went on the opposite end of the table – where Quinn was. Rachel swallowed hard and sat beside Tina who went off on a rant about glee club. She welcomed the distraction the younger woman offered.

“Have you all met that girl Quinn is with?” Rachel asked. “Who is she?”

Tina and Mike looked at each other, then turned to Rachel. “Her name is Amy – she introduced herself as Quinn’s girlfriend.”

Rachel had an inkling and that would explain the dread blooming inside her but to hear it in those words still felt much like a fist lodged in her chest. She cleared her throat and sipped her drink. “Huh, is that so? I should go introduce myself.”

“She probably knows about you already,” Sam said. “She seems to know everyone, anyway. She knew stuff, like where Mike is going for college, and about Finn, Puck, and me dating Quinn at one point. So she should know about you, right?”

Rachel had auditioned for twenty stage shows in the little time she lived in New York – and she had never been this nervous, this nerve-wracked. The meal she ate in her dads’ house threatened to rise up and revolt against her body. Her knees hardly felt like knees at all.

Mike stared at her features and tapped her chin. “You alright? You’re looking a little pale.”

“I’m _fine_.”

“Sure you are,” Mike grinned and squeezed Rachel’s hand. “As fine as anyone can be, meeting your ex’s new girlfriend, huh? Want me to walk you over?”

“I – no. I need to do this on my own.”

Tina frowned. “Says who? You need someone in your corner, or else you’re going to feel like you’re alone, facing Quinn and her new girl like that.”

“She’s not the enemy – _they’re_ not the enemy. No one’s the enemy,” Rachel huffed in frustration. Still, her shoulders sagged, and she leaned her entire body weight against Mike. “Still, you’re right. And I appreciate it. But I have to brave this by myself. I don’t need her to think I’m weak.”

“I don’t think Quinn will think that of you.” Sam said gently.

“I’m not talking about Quinn,” Rachel smiled and patted the top of Sam’s head. She rose to her feet and with a deep, steadying breath, approached the other end of the table. She could feel all eyes on her, and it made the small hairs on the back of her neck rise in attention. Rachel stood behind Santana’s chair and braced herself against it, just as she watched the girl who sat beside Quinn throw her head back in a laugh.

She allowed herself that moment to look at Quinn. Still the most beautiful girl she had ever met, Rachel’s heart seized in a tender grasp that knocked the air out of her lungs. The way she looked at her _girlfriend_ – Rachel thought in a scathing bitterness – was familiar, almost.

“Hi,” Rachel said. Quinn’s attention snapped towards her, and their eyes met. Rachel imagined this moment a thousand times, but never like this. She pictured it as a coming home, as a return to the normal, the beautiful. Instead, everything was an anomaly. She clenched her hand around the back of Santana’s chair until her knuckles paled. She looked at this new face, with her brown eyes stark from laughter, her dark auburn locks. Her cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh, hi,” Amy smiled and glanced at Rachel. The lull of the room fell into a hush. As if everyone held their breath. Here it was, the piece of Quinn’s past that everyone knew _mattered,_ colliding with the present.

But Amy looked at her with curiosity more than anything else – more than recognition. “Who might you be?”

It was like a rubber band snapping and it was Rachel who took the brunt of the sting. She flinched and steeled herself so she would not avert her gaze. She squared her shoulders. “I’m Rachel Berry.”

Still, it was as if the name meant _absolutely nothing_ to Amy. “Nice to meet you, Rachel,” she said, before she turned to Kurt to resume their conversation about New York Fashion Week. Kurt glanced at Rachel with a look of horror that he masterfully hid behind a smile and a nod directed in Amy’s direction.

A warbled sound bubbled in the back of Rachel’s throat. The anxiety, the tightness in her chest reached critical mass. She released it in a throaty chuckle. She met Quinn’s eyes, a wry smile on her lips.

“I see,” Rachel smiled. She took pride in knowing the minute differences in Quinn’s expressions – but at the moment, she was unreadable. Rachel roiled with fury, with _hurt_ , and she wanted to unleash it all.

But she did not know how.

So she spun on her heels and did what she did best. She stormed out.

She welcomed the frigid night air that greeted her in the patio area of the restaurant. She tugged her scarf tighter around her neck and burrowed into its warmth. Outside, the moon hung low, heavy and full amidst the treetops. Rachel parked herself on a vacant chair and managed a deep, steadying breath.

It was impossible to pinpoint with precision what she felt in that space and time. She knew by rote and by heart what she _wanted_ to feel – she wanted to be triumphant, to feel exceptional, to be victorious when she returned and faced her friends once again. But – she supposed – it was not meant to be.

Rachel shook her head in frustration. The blank look that Amy aimed in her direction filled her with rage and irritation. How was it that she knew about everyone else _but_ her?

And when she stormed out, what did she expect to come out of it other than the reminder that Quinn used to run after her, used to be the one to usher her back inside after calming her down with a kiss. She gasped upon remembering, images flashing in her mind in a playback so vivid and so painful – to know that tenderness was no longer hers to partake in.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? Past, past, all of her memories of Quinn were from the past.

A startling streak of hot tears cascaded down her cheek and she gasped when it fell on the back of her palm. A lone tear, hot and branding against her skin. She hastily wiped the trail it left on her face and sighed.

“You alright? Everyone’s talking about you,” Mike appeared at the doorway wearing his winter coat, a beanie in his hand. He sat beside Rachel and tugged the hat down her head to keep her warm. In thanks, Rachel sniffled and rested against Mike’s side.

“You know me – to be talked about is all I want in this life,” she said with a watery, warped voice. “How come she didn’t know who I was?”

“Well,” Mike hesitated before he continued, “maybe Quinn didn’t talk about you. Because you’re her ex – ”

“She knew about Puck getting her _pregnant_. And she can’t even so much as mention me?”

Mike sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he murmured, his chin resting on top of Rachel’s head. “You’ll have to ask Quinn about it yourself.”

“If she’ll even talk to me.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he nudged Rachel. “You two were the most powerful couple I know – even though it was in the past. Love like that doesn’t go away that quickly. I’m sure you can still find common ground, no matter how small.”

Rachel lifted her eyes to stare at the inky darkness of the sky to keep more tears from falling. Her voice sounded small, even in her own ears. “What if she found someone better, Mike? What do I do then?”

The taller man sighed and all he could do was to lend Rachel the comfort of his arms. “I don’t know, Rachel.”

+

“You know, I was just thinking,” Santana drawled. She leaned back on her chair, legs crossed and bobbing in an undulating motion. Amy just left to go to the bathroom, leaving Quinn alone with Santana’s intense, inquiring gaze. Everyone else separated into smaller camps, mostly on one end of the table. Whispers permeated the space, and Quinn was almost sure that they were talking about her and Amy – and Rachel.

“What, Santana?”

The woman in question smirked. “She’s short. Has brown hair, brown eyes.”

“Thousands – if not _millions_ of women have brown hair and brown eyes and are short. Don’t think too much about it.”

Santana chuckled and slugged her Coke and wiped her lips. “Right, right. Of course. The odds just seem to be higher with you, I’m guessing.”

The blonde opened her mouth to speak just as Amy reappeared once more. “What else can you tell me about Quinn, Santana?” She asked, breathless.

“Well… Quinn had a wild and eventful senior year.”

“Oh? She doesn’t talk about it a lot – I’m assuming because a lot happened.”

Santana’s eyes seemed to sparkle at this piece of information. She smirked, and terror seized Quinn’s chest. She feared that Santana would talk about Rachel – when she had been successful thus far in not talking about her, especially to Amy. She tensed, prepared to interrupt Santana when she said, “Quinn dyed her hair pink, got a Ryan Seacrest tattoo, and lit a purple piano on fire.”

Amy gasped and let out a snicker. “Well – I think that Ryan Seacrest tattoo was fake because I didn’t see a hint of it. But a purple piano? I didn’t think you were into pyrotechnics, baby.”

Just as Quinn proceeded to let her guard down, Santana spoke up again. “She also fell in love with someone we least expected her to, so that was a _really_ fun year. Too bad it ended.” She downed the rest of her drink and rose to her feet. Without another word, she kicked her chair back and joined another cloud of people. Santana was replaced by Finn, Sam, and Mercedes. It was almost as if they were taking rounds to keep Quinn and her girlfriend occupied.

In the corner of Quinn’s eye, she saw Rachel return bundled up in her coat and with Mike’s beanie slouched on top of her head. Quinn immediately averted her gaze – in case Rachel caught her looking. The skin of her throat flexed. She wiped her sweaty palms on the leg of her jeans.

“Hey, I was thinking. Maybe we could leave right about now,” Quinn whispered in Amy’s ear. “I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Amy cupped Quinn’s cheek and peered into her eyes – her brown eyes more reminiscent of topaz than amber. “Okay. I’ll let you say goodbye to your friends.”

Together they rose to their feet. Amy went to retrieve her coat while Quinn made her rounds saying goodbye and hugging her friends. It was impossible to approach the bubble Rachel’s presence created. Quinn hesitated to breach it – unsure whether she had the emotional fortitude to say hello, to say goodbye to Rachel _again_ and come out of it unscathed.

So she didn’t.

With one final wave of her hand in the direction of her friends, she left Breadstix with Amy in tow. Got into the car and pulled out of the lot as if she was being chased – and wasn’t she, really? Chased by her weakness and her indecisions. Her grip tightened around the steering wheel. A trembling breath escaped her.

God, she couldn’t even look Rachel in the eye for too long. Everything was too new, too raw, too fresh in ache for words. Quinn could close her eyes and see Rachel in everything. The electric currents of her body still magnetized to this one love that her heart seemed to refuse to surrender.

“Quinn?”

The blonde cleared her throat. Glanced at Amy who watched her with a curious look.

“Who was that Rachel girl? I’m only asking because she was the only one out of everyone you’ve never mentioned at least _once_. I find it hard to believe that you have a story for and about everyone else – except for her. And I’ve seen her in photographs of you with glee club, and some of just you and her – but you never brought her up so I thought something happened with her that you didn’t want to talk about.”

Quinn licked her lips and sighed. She did not speak until she parked her car on the driveway of her childhood home. Morose still, she walked into the dark house with Amy trailing behind her. Once in the comfort of her bedroom, Quinn slumped on the edge of the bed, her elbows propped against her thighs.

“Rachel and I used to date,” Quinn said – her voice as clear as she could manage. “I a – _was_ in love with her. But we broke up, so it doesn’t matter.”

The sweat on her hands felt indicative of guilt – for lying to Amy and to herself – for understating just how much Rachel meant to her. Quinn refused to look up and meet her girlfriend’s eyes.

“Clearly it matters,” Amy said. She sank on the bed beside Quinn. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t – ” The response came quick and in a rush. Words spinning out beyond her control. “I can’t.”

“Why did you two break up, then?”

“It was for our own good,” Quinn murmured, her forehead resting on her open palm. “We were graduating and we both felt that a long-distance relationship, from two different states, would be difficult for us. That’s all.”

Amy made a soft, humming sound. “So – it wasn’t because you fell out of love.”

In her throat sat a bullet of words she wanted to utter. “No,” Quinn said, her voice hoarse.

+

_Seven months ago_

Quinn rolled on her back, her arms splayed around her and groaned. She stretched the muscles of her back, eyes squinted shut. Above her, she heard movement, and then a shadow loomed over her head. She cracked open an eye and a small squeak escaped her throat when she saw Rachel’s smiling face hovering dangerously close to her.

“Hi. Need a break?” Rachel grinned. They have been studying for their finals together – Rachel while sitting on her desk and Quinn on her stomach on Rachel’s bed. Her second home, the Berry house to her was as familiar as Rachel – she could roam the space in her sleep, arms held out before her for the touching. The dark-haired girl climbed in beside Quinn and curled herself against the blonde’s side, an arm thrown on top of her stomach, arms and legs wrapped around Quinn’s frame. She hummed and nuzzled against the top of Rachel’s head. 

“Are you excited? To graduate, I mean,” Rachel asked, her voice muffled against Quinn’s chest. She grasped blindly for something and Quinn, knowing what she wanted, reached for her hand, their fingers locked.

“Of course – excited for everything to happen. Especially since we are both getting out of Ohio,” Quinn kissed the back of Rachel’s hand.

What she left unsaid echoed inside her chest. The one source of impending doom rang like the toll of a bell, but still she covered her ears in hopes that she could ignore it long enough to relish what she had in her arms. She held Rachel just a little bit tighter, refusing to acknowledge that with graduation would arrive what she would come to dread the most, inevitable as it was.

Their parting.

+

Quinn jolted awake, a cold sweat coating her body. From her limbs and legs she kicked the blanket off and allowed the cool winter atmosphere of her room cool her down. She was alone in bed. While it was progressive of Judy Fabray to allow Quinn’s new girlfriend to stay with them during the winter holidays, she insisted that they sleep in separate rooms and Amy complied.

Quinn did not neglect to notice how Judy seemed… disappointed when she met Amy – and Quinn was confident that it was not because she brought home a girl since she knew just how much Judy adored Rachel. So, then, perhaps that was it… The expression in her face had everything to do with the fact that Quinn was dating someone else.

Eventually, Quinn found herself alone with her mother in the kitchen while Amy got acquainted with the guest bedroom. “Mom. Can you at least pretend to be happy to meet Amy?”

“What do you mean? I am genuinely happy to meet your new girlfriend, Quinn. I don’t know what made you think otherwise.”

Quinn frowned, brow raised. “Really?”

“Of course,” Judy said, a sad smile on her lips. “I can be happy to meet Amy but still miss Rachel.”

And so Quinn slept alone with nothing but her thundering heart to keep her company. She squeezed her eyes shut but the vision, the memory of her body with Rachel, the electric familiarity of it – lingered with the frayed edges of her nerves. Her throat was parched and it hurt to swallow, so she dragged her feet towards the bathroom for a drink of water.

On her way to the sink, she caught the glimpse of the outside world. It was light out, greyish and arctic in the low light. She noted the hush of the neighbourhood. The clock read six in the morning.

After she had a glass of water, she returned to her bedroom and changed out of her sleep clothes. She fished out her car keys from her coat pocket so it would not make a sound as she slipped her arms through the coat’s sleeves. She took slow, furtive steps on her way down. She locked the front door behind her and rode her car to drive the route that was as known to her as the intricacies of the back of her hand.

+

Rachel had a long, sleepless night though her body was bone-tired from travel and from the night of socializing. After Santana dropped her off, the woman gave her an uncharacteristically long hug, and even though they would call each other friends, the moments in which they hugged each other were few and far between. Still, as Santana held her at the front porch of her childhood home, Rachel was unable to suppress a sob that had been threatening her insides the moment she saw Quinn that night.

And then it was morning, yet again.

Dressed in thermal leggings and shirt, she zipped up her winter track suit. It was a brisk morning a few days before Christmas, but it was not as frigid as it was last night. Rachel thought that she might as well go for a run. She did a series of stretches, plugged her earphones into her ears, and with the soundtrack of _Hadestown_ playing, she took off on a jog.

She attempted to keep her mind delightfully blank as she pounded the pavement. She took the same running route that she used when she still lived at home. The familiar sights of her neighbours’ yards were a comfort she did not expect. She ran and ran, but she could not escape thinking about Quinn. She wanted to ask her so many things, wanted to know where she stood in the blonde’s eyes.

_Do you still love me? Do you still want to be with me? If I ask you to leave her for me, would you?_

Rachel flinched. The questions rang selfish, no matter how she looked at it. Maybe that was all she was – selfish, unable to move on and let go.

On the loop back to her house, Rachel slowed when she noticed a car parked right in front of her fathers’ house.

And within said vehicle was a blonde head she could spot and identify from anywhere.

Rachel stopped running and peered through the car’s window. There sat Quinn, her head resting against the steering wheel. From where Rachel stood, she seemed as if she had fallen asleep, but she was not entirely sure. She forgot all tension, all awkwardness from last night – and instead it was replaced with concern and worry. With her knuckle, she tapped the window gently.

Quinn jolted into an upright sitting position. Their eyes locked through the lightly-fogged window. It was certainly nothing like how Rachel imagined: Quinn with bags under her eyes, and Rachel with a look of utter disbelief – jaw slack and brow furrowed – aimed towards the blonde. They surely made for such a funny sight and they both knew it, because they both burst into uncontrollable giggles.

“Quinn? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Quinn stepped out of her car and shivered in the cold. “I did _not_ , and you know it.”

“Well,” Rachel shrugged. “It’s best not to assume I know anything about you anymore – especially after last night.”

Clearing her throat, Quinn tightened her coat around her body. Rachel frowned, her arms crossed over her chest. She repeated her earlier question. “What are you doing here?”

The question – but Rachel’s tone more than anything – seemed to hurt Quinn. She flinched and rubbed the back of her neck. “I – I don’t know, really. I just wanted to see your house – and you, of course – again. I didn’t expect to run into you. Though that seems ridiculous to say – you live here, after all.”

“So perhaps, you wanted to see me – unconsciously.” Rachel said, her brow raised.

“There is nothing unconscious about my wanting to see you,” Quinn murmured.

It made Rachel freeze. Made her want to beat her clenched fists against Quinn’s chest, to yell at her and call her unfair. But she did not. Instead, her jaw clenched, and she managed a shaky breath. “Funny – I would not have thought, judging from how you _hardly looked in my direction_ last night, Quinn.”

Quinn slumped, her hip rested against the side of her car and met Rachel’s eyes this time. “I know. I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

“I daresay you weren’t thinking at all,” Rachel snapped.

Quinn smiled and reached for Rachel’s hand that peeked out of her track suit’s cuffs. She hooked her finger against Rachel’s pinky, just to hold something of her. “I don’t remember you being this prickly.”

Rachel pouted but did not yank her hand away from Quinn’s grasp. “A person can change a lot – especially after a break-up.”

They stood by the side of the road, looking at each other, taking each other in by sight alone – for that was all they were allowed to do. They stared at each other to make up for lost time – to make up for last night.

For all the ways Quinn seemed unaltered, she changed in the only way that mattered.

She was no longer Rachel’s.

“Does your girlfriend,” and she tried – Rachel _swore_ she tried – not to sound scathing, but the word left her mouth like venom. Rachel swallowed the bitterness back. It would not do well to fixate on it again. “know where you are?”

Quinn shook her head. “She’s a heavy sleeper and she was staying in the guest room, so no. She’s still probably asleep.”

“Right,” Rachel sighed. “Do you want to come in? For some coffee?”

The smile that curled Quinn’s lips was the most familiar thing about her. Rachel always remembered waking up to it, with her body nestled against Quinn’s warmth. This was always, always, _always_ how Quinn looked at her. That, at least, remained the same. “I’d love to.”

+

The fact that the Berry house had not changed in the four months since Quinn and Rachel broke up was to be expected. It was as if she had never left – as if time hardly passed. The entryway looked the same – the polished wood bench, the painting of the fruit bowl (filled with an assortment of berries since it _was_ the Berry house, after all) suspended by the brass-framed mirror. Quinn swallowed back the wave of nostalgia. Kept herself from kicking her shoes off and making a beeline towards the bedroom she was most intimate with.

_That was before_ , she thought to convince herself. _I don’t belong there anymore._

She resisted the motions her body wanted to undergo. She followed Rachel to the kitchen, the countertops the same polished marble. A bowl laden with fruits sat at the centre of the kitchen island. Quinn watched Rachel’s form as she stretched to reach the cabinet overhead for the coffee-making implements. She grinned to herself while Rachel struggled to reach.

“Instead of just grinning at me,” Rachel huffed. She did not even have to turn around to look at Quinn’s face. “How about a little help?”

“You know me so well,” Quinn drawled. She stood behind Rachel, pressed her torso against the smaller girl’s back, and reached for the box of coffee filters and the tin of coffee grounds. She handed the items to Rachel who looked redder than usual. Quinn stepped back so Rachel could begin the brew.

“I also know that you like vegan waffles,” Rachel said.

At this, Quinn perked up. “You have some?”

Rachel nodded and gestured towards the fridge. “You know where they are.”

Quinn poked her head into the freezer drawer and retrieved a carton of the vegan waffles Rachel got her hooked on from _before_. She toasted a couple while the coffee dripped into the carafe, pumping the kitchen with its rich, roasted aroma. Quinn leaned against the counter across from Rachel while she set down two white porcelain mugs.

The countless mornings that they shared – with just the two of them, sometimes with Rachel’s dads – brought another wave of ache in Quinn’s chest. Sure, it was the same image, almost. The only thing that changed was the rift forged between them. Four months ago, Quinn would attach herself to Rachel’s back, holding her close, kissing her neck while she made them cups of coffee.

And making breakfast together – it was a dance ingrained in the muscles of her body that no mere four months away could eradicate. A dance that both of them knew the motions to. But it was one thing to know the movements, and another matter entirely to ask Rachel to waltz with her once more.

After all, Quinn was no longer in the position to ask Rachel for a dance.

“Do you still take your coffee the same?” Rachel asked without looking up at Quinn while she poured the drink into the two mugs.

“Not really – no one can make coffee the way I like it in New Haven so I settled for the subpar way they make coffee.”

Rachel smirked and side-eyed Quinn. “But should I still make your coffee the same way?”

It was odd to say, but the way Rachel was smug about the strangest things brought a smile to Quinn’s lips. “You’re the only one who makes coffee the way I like it. Do you spit on it or something?”

Rachel handed Quinn the porcelain mug and raised a brow. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The flirtation was their bread and butter, but it still made Quinn blush, her cheeks seared with heat. She coughed out a laugh. A splash of coffee spilled on the countertop which she immediately wiped with a paper towel. “You know it.”

Just then, they heard the sound of soft, padding footsteps, and from the stairs they saw Hiram watching them with a stunned look on his face. “O-oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to interrupt. Quinn, it’s been so long.” He held out his arms and Quinn welcomed his hug. “How have you been, darling?”

“As well as one can hope to be,” Quinn answered with a casual shrug. “How are you? And Leroy?”

“Oh, as well as one can hope to be,” Hiram teased with a playful smirk. “The house has been more silent, certainly, without Rachel’s presence – and yours. Time moves slower now, in that regard. I just came down to get some coffee for me and Roy, so I’ll do that and leave you two to reconnect.” He winked, poured two cups of black coffee, and left as quickly as he came.

Rachel laughed while Quinn watched Hiram disappear upstairs. “It’s nice to see they haven’t changed, at least.” Quinn said with a chuckle.

They sat across from one another on the dining table, a stack of vegan waffles and maple syrup shared between them. Quinn drank her coffee with greedy gulps. Its warmth seared her throat in a delicious way. The bittersweet taste of it coated her tongue as she set her mug down. She licked her lips, not realizing that Rachel watched her with an amused look in her eyes.

“Want more coffee?”

Quinn wiped the back of her lips. “Please.”

Rachel rose to make her another cup. Quinn felt reinvigorated – more than ever. Though perhaps that was thanks to the caffeine injected into her system. She nibbled on a waffle and thanked Rachel when she returned.

The sun filtered through the sliding glass doors that led to the Berrys’ backyard, illuminating Rachel’s locks with a halo of light. And when her head tilted to meet Quinn’s gaze, all the blonde could see were her eyes speckled with gold. And it was as if her heart was seized in a closed fist of her own making.

Was this love? Or the ghost of it?

Ah, but for there to be a ghost, something must die first.

And that was the matter at hand. In Quinn’s heart, not a thing marked with Rachel’s name on it died.

She cleared her throat and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “I should go,” she told Rachel. “Thank you for the coffee. And the waffles.”

“Already, huh? Before your girlfriend wakes up?”

Quinn looked at Rachel who continued to absently stir the coffee in her cup. “Her name is Amy.”

She rose to her feet and Rachel followed. She tugged her coat over her body and slipped on her shoes. Her heart thundered, her fight or flight response triggered by the look in Rachel’s eyes. “Thanks again – for the coffee.”

“Anytime, Quinn,” Rachel murmured. “And I mean it.”

Quinn did not want to feel the finality, but the atmosphere roiled with it. With a trembling hand, she turned to grasp the front door’s knob.

“Why didn’t she know who I was?”

Rachel looked at Quinn with shimmering eyes, with tears that threatened to fall. The sight seized Quinn’s heart in an ache and she winced. “Why did your girlfriend,” here, her voice hitched and Quinn looked at her with concern, “knew about everyone – literally everyone – except me? She doesn’t even know _my name_ , Quinn. And Sam told me she thought _Finn_ was glee club’s carry? I don’t think so.”

Quinn, unable to resist, laughed. She let her scarf drape over her shoulders. “So, what are you really concerned by? The fact that I didn’t say you’re the MVP, or the fact that I didn’t mention we dated?”

“The _fact_ that you would let my name fall into obscurity like that! She knew everyone and how they impacted your life in some way, but when it came to me, she came up _blank_. And here I thought I was the most important woman in your life – at one point, at least.”

Her tone was playful, but Quinn’s brow furrowed and she fell silent. Rachel seemed to notice and she scrambled for something to say. “I – I mean… I didn’t mean to make light of it or anything – ”

“I know,” Quinn said. “But the thing is, it’s impossible for me to talk about you. Especially to a woman I’m trying to date.”

“I just want to know why. I feel like I’m _entitled_ to know.”

“Rachel…”

The woman in question winced. “Just tell me – and I’ll let you go.”

“That’s the last thing I want,” Quinn said with a chuckle. She stepped closer to Rachel and hooked her finger against her pinky – a repetition of her earlier action. “The thing is – if I talk about you to anyone who would listen, it would reiterate a simple fact. That is, I’m not over you.”

Rachel looked at her in alarm and Quinn grinned. “Shocked?”

“You’re giving me mixed signals,” Rachel complained. “First – you come to the glee club reunion with a plus one – your _new girlfriend_ , might I add – then I find you stalking my house to tell me that you’re not over me?” In frustration, Rachel threw up her hand that was not holding Quinn’s own. “What is the truth here, really?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, it’s true,” Quinn brought Rachel’s hand up to her mouth and kissed where their fingers were linked. “I was afraid that _you_ would be over me, so I thought if I had Amy with me, it would be easier to appear unbothered – had it been the case.”

Rachel frowned but she did not pull her hand away from Quinn. Instead, she stepped closer so they stood dangerously close to one another. Quinn wanted nothing more than to close the gap and have Rachel once more. But she did not know if it was still her place to do so.

“Quinn, you’re _projecting_ ,” Rachel said, frustration so evident in her voice. “I never gave any indication whatsoever that I am over you, so what in the world made you think that?”

“Oh, you know,” Quinn said, unable to control the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. “My brain likes to make up worst case scenarios all the time.”

“I _do_ know,” Rachel said, grim and serious, as she grasped the back of Quinn’s head with her unoccupied hand and – _oh god_ her nerves felt electric in Rachel’s hands. She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat. She rested her hands on top of Rachel’s waist and then – it was as if they had never been apart at all. “I should have known – we were together for a year and you turn around and tell me you’re over _me_ in a mere four months? _I_ don’t think so.”

Quinn grinned. “Be careful – your head might grow too big for your doorway.”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m right.”

Shaking her head, the blonde held Rachel close to her. She rested her chin against Rachel’s shoulder and slumped, as if all attempts to appear aloof and detached became too heavy for her shoulders. Rachel made a soft cooing sound and kissed the juncture where Quinn’s neck and shoulders met.

And then, Rachel bit her.

“Ow!” Quinn reared back to frown at the woman who stood before her, an annoyed expression on her face. Her hand clamped over the sting on her neck. “What the hell was that for?”

“That was for giving me grief and sleepless nights,” Rachel said, arms crossed, reminiscent of her stances in glee club – or whenever she was annoyed at something, this time at Quinn. “I had to mute the glee club group chat because every time I thought about you bringing your plus once, it made it difficult to breathe. I couldn’t sleep because I woke up in cold sweats dreaming about you and her.”

Quinn softened and she wrapped her arms around Rachel’s waist though she kept her arms crossed. “I’m sorry.”

“And I can’t believe you’d use someone like you used Amy, too,” Rachel said with a frown.

The blonde sighed and stared at the polished wooden floor of Rachel’s foyer. “Okay, okay – I get it. I fucked up in bringing her to the glee club reunion. What was I supposed to do? I can’t read minds – I had no idea how you felt.”

Rachel raised her brow. “Ask me.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Because you’re afraid what it would say about you if you ask me if I still felt the same. Right?” Rachel took Quinn’s face in her hands and locked their eyes together. “You’re afraid that it implies that you still have feelings for me.”

Quinn squirmed, but still she met Rachel’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“Is that so bad? If it’s the truth,” Rachel pointed out. “It _is_ the truth, isn’t it?”

Quinn sighed. She nodded. “I both miss and did not miss how you can read me like sheet music.”

Rachel grinned and released Quinn’s face. “I’m really good at it, huh?”

“The best.”

She chuckled and took a step back from Quinn. “I miss this – I miss _you_ – but you have a girlfriend waiting for you at your house and we are both being unfair to her.” Rachel reached for Quinn’s hand, and she met Rachel’s reach halfway. Fingers locked in a promise. Quinn watched the way Rachel’s brow furrowed. Rachel knew how to read her, sure, but it was definitely not a one way street.

“Go ahead, Rach. Ask me.” Quinn whispered.

+

Rachel stiffened and she looked up at Quinn. The blonde caressed her cheek and lightly pinched her earlobe. “You have that look. I can read you too, in case you forgot. Ask me,” she said again. “I know my answer, and I mean it, too.”

“How could you know what I want to ask? Last time I checked, you’re not psychic.”

“I’m not psychic, no. But I do know you.” Quinn raised Rachel’s hand to her lips and murmured against it. “I know you hesitate to raise the question because you’re afraid of what my answer would be, but how would you know until you ask? Isn’t that what you were trying to drill into my head?” Quinn teased.

With a shaky breath, Rachel bit her lip and focused on the blonde before her. She was the same Quinn – _her_ Quinn who drank too much coffee and still would nap during the afternoon hours. Her Quinn who looked at her with hazel eyes full of love and she knew it – which explained why she hardly looked at Rachel for all of last night. In case it gave her away.

The questions burned the back of Rachel’s throat. How it could easily change everything and nothing – and she had no idea what she feared more. She grasped at Quinn’s hands. She breathed in deep.

_“_ Do you still love me? Do you still want to be with me? If I ask you to leave her for me, would you?”

Quinn did not allow for a beat of silence to pass. “Yes.”

“T-to all three? Quinn, are you _serious_?”

“I sure am,” Quinn murmured, pulling Rachel into her arms again. And this time, she embraced Quinn back, arms wound around her neck. “I’ve been thinking about how breaking up was a mistake. Or maybe, I’m just bad at moving on.”

“If you’re bad at moving on then I’m the worst at it. I should get a reward.”

“If…” Rachel watched the way Quinn looked at her – with soft eyes she could picture in her sleep. She clutched the nape of the blonde’s neck. “If I buy you a Metro North Pass from New York to New Haven, would you use it? To see me? I’ll buy one too, of course – from New Haven to New York – ”

“Yes,” Rachel whispered as she cupped Quinn’s cheeks. “I would rather have you than once a week than not at all.”

The thunder of impulse raged through her veins. Rachel rose to the tips of her toes, aiming for a kiss, but –

Quinn covered Rachel’s mouth with a hand.

“Mmmph!” Rachel squealed against her palm.

“Sorry, sorry!” Quinn laughed and lowered her hand to hold Rachel around the waist once more. Her face slackened into a serious expression. “But I don’t want to be anymore unfair to Amy than I already was.”

“Oh – good, _good_ ,” Rachel stammered. She stepped back, needing to make distance in case she lost herself in her wanting again. “That was a test! And you certainly passed.” She woodenly patted Quinn on the shoulder and gave her a thumbs up. “Good job, Quinn.”

Quinn’s lips formed a smirk and Rachel was unable to hide her blush. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really!” She huffed.

The blonde kissed Rachel’s forehead before she took a quick step back, and that brought a smile to Rachel’s face. The shyness, the soft blush that coloured her cheeks a dusky pink.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Quinn said.

“I hope so.”

“You will,” Quinn promised, and she turned to leave.

+

It was strange to drive away from Rachel’s house and feel relieved. Quinn clutched the steering wheel tight in her grip, knuckles pale, her belly warmed with coffee and Rachel’s company. When Quinn woke up that morning, when her body moved on impulse, as if on autopilot, to drive to Rachel’s house, this was the outcome she least expected. She thought she would only have time to reminisce – maybe catch a glimpse of Rachel with her dads. She did not expect Rachel to find her and invite her into her house, of all things.

A difficult conversation lay ahead of her and she was not looking forward to it. It felt terrible and nauseating to have to hurt Amy, to have wasted her time despite how good she was to Quinn for her to realize where her heart truly resided. Quinn mulled the words she needed to say to soften the blow the most.

And, Quinn could not help but remember the last time she drove away from Rachel’s house – the day they broke up. It had been near impossible to drive, with tears blurring her vision, her body racked with sobs. She felt different now – hopeful, happy to have found her misplaced bravery to see Rachel, now that a promise of a future was paved for the both of them once again.

**Author's Note:**

> That feeling when you're supposed to be writing kinktober prompts but you were beset by pining instead. This fic was the byproduct of that. I needed to get this one specific image out of my head so I can work on other things and that is the only reason why this story exists.
> 
> This fic contains a thematic concern for me - one that operates in one of my longest (secret, but not anymore I suppose!) wips. This story is an isolated event but part of an entire macrocosm that operates inside my head to keep me up at night. 
> 
> So, I know that this fic might seem unfinished or incomplete - and you're right in thinking so. In some ways, that's the point.


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